With Every Day That Passes
by unpredictablemary
Summary: AU Crawley family story, picking up from the end of the CS (and a fix-it fic for the CS). M/M with lots of family moments.
1. Chapter 1

_So I'm sure we'll be inundated with denial/fix-it fics, but I don't care because I HAD to make this better. After watching the CS I thought for sure I couldn't write, but after awhile I realized I needed to make my own new headcanon, and make it feel real, so here it is- a little unpolished and rough, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better too. I plan to continue into the future with my ideas for the whole family and their future, so this is just the beginning!_

Time passed differently for Mary as she sat there gazing at her son's face. He watched her, and she watched him, and everything in the world felt complete and right. She had refused to nap or relinquish him to the nurse; though she was tired, she knew she couldn't sleep. She just wanted to watch him and whisper to him and love him. She didn't know how long it had been since Matthew had left when the door to her room quietly opened. Mary looked up to see her mother's shining face, her eyes already full of tears and her arms outstretched.

"Oh, Mama," Mary said, crying a little herself as her mother embraced her and then knelt down to the baby. Robert, Edith, Tom and Isobel followed her in, and Mary laughed and cried as she looked up at them all. "Papa," she said happily, "meet your grandson."

Robert's breath caught in his throat as he bent over to stroke the tiny cheek. He pressed a long kiss to Mary's forehead. She beamed up at him.

"Where's Matthew?" Mary asked. "Didn't he come back with you all?"

Cora frowned. "You mean he's not here?"

"No, I sent him home to get you." Mary's eyebrows creased together. "I told him to go back to Downton. You didn't see him?"

Cora glanced at Robert. "No, dear. We thought he was here with you. We got so impatient with waiting that we decided to just come—" She broke off as Mary's expression began to grow alarmed. "I'll go ask Dr. Clarkson, darling. I'm sure we just passed each other on the way."

Mary nodded and sat back against the pillows. She realized she was clutching the baby tightly. She and Matthew hadn't even named him yet, not officially. Edith came to sit on the side of the bed and Mary tried not to worry, smiling at Edith as she met her nephew.

"I'll go back with the car to try to find him," Tom volunteered. "I bet he's at Downton by now. We can all drive back together."

"I'll come with you," Robert said. "You'll stay with Mary, Cora?"

"Of course. Come back soon." She pecked her husband on the cheek. As Robert reached for the door, a man burst in.

"Doctor!" he panted. "Doctor, there's been an accident—I hit—he's bleeding—Doctor, come quickly, sir."

"Where is he?" Clarkson asked, already running to retrieve his bag.

"Who is it?" Robert said.

"My lord!" the man started, not having fully realized who was standing in the room. He swallowed and coughed. "I think—" the man broke off, fear in his eyes.

"Who is it?" Robert repeated menacingly.

"I think it's Mr. Crawley, sir."

Silence dropped like a ton of bricks. Robert, Cora, Tom and Clarkson froze, staring at each other.

"I'll drive," Tom said again, this time with urgency, wrenching the door all the way open and running down the stairs. Clarkson swept after him, running too, and the man followed. Only Robert paused for a moment, turning to his wife, who had her hand clamped over her mouth.

"Do not tell Mary," he said to Cora. "Or Isobel. Not yet. Keep them calm and we'll be back."

Cora nodded. "Robert—"

"I know." He squeezed her hand. "God, I know."

Fifteen minutes later, Isobel was walking down the hall, having left to give Cora a moment alone with her daughters and grandson, when the door opened and suddenly Clarkson and Tom were hauling a body inside—there was blood on his head, on Tom's shirt—Isobel started to spring into action; she should help, and then she realized the man was—

"_Matthew?_" Isobel's stomach dropped out of her body. This was her nightmare, she had seen it before, it wasn't supposed to be happening again—it couldn't be, it couldn't be.

"It's all right, Isobel," Clarkson called as they shuffled backward into the next room. He began giving Tom instructions as they maneuvered Matthew onto the bed. Isobel elbowed Robert out of the way to follow.

"It is not all right! What on earth has happened? Oh, my son," she breathed, kneeling down. His head fell to one side, his hair was matted with blood, his breathing was imperceptible.

"He was in a car accident," Clarkson replied. "The car went down in a ditch. He was hit by a truck. He should be all right as long as we can stop the bleeding. He's not conscious, but he's breathing."

Isobel looked up at him. "Let me help."

Dr. Clarkson met her eyes over Matthew's body. "We must clean the wound."

Isobel nodded once and got up, grabbing cloths and a basin. She and Clarkson worked quickly, hardly needing to speak to communicate. Tom and Robert stood in the corner, ashen-faced and helpless.

"They're back," Mary said, glancing up as she heard the front gate. A shout followed, and some banging and another door slamming. Cora kept her eyes on the baby, making noises and kissing its tiny hands and fingers.

"What's going on?" Mary said, her eyes fixed on the door. "Did you hear that?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Cora said.

"It didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like Isobel, didn't it? Edith, will you go check?"

"Oh, don't get up and disturb the baby. The men will be back soon."

Mary fixed her mother with a stare. "If Edith doesn't go, then I will."

Cora looked between her daughters. "Then I'll go," she said in a placating tone, rising. Mary watched her leave, her stomach in a sudden knot.

"I don't see what you're so anxious for," Edith said, keeping her eyes on her nephew. "They probably just passed on the road."

Mary sighed. She didn't know why she was so anxious, either, except that she just felt she should be, somehow. "I'm getting up." She pressed her baby to her shoulder, sliding her arm underneath his legs, and slowly eased herself out of bed.

"Mary, you shouldn't," Edith said.

"I just had a baby. I can do whatever I want." And she padded across the room, opened the door and started down the hall. She had only gone a few steps when she heard Isobel's voice. She was talking about towels and cloths and—The door in front of Mary opened, and Isobel emerged, looking intense and single-minded as she stepped into the hall. She stopped cold when she saw Mary.

"Mary! What are you doing? You should be in bed!"

"What's going on?"

Isobel pressed her lips together, twisting her hands.

"Tell me," Mary demanded.

"He was in an accident," Isobel said. "He's unconscious and bleeding from the head. But I think he'll be all right. Clarkson is stitching him up now."

Mary felt like she was falling, and without meaning to, she reached out a hand. Isobel grabbed it, steadying her. Mary swallowed. Her face was white, but her voice was sure.

"Let me see him."

"Why don't you go back and when he's cleaned up—"

Robert emerged from the room. "Mary?"

"Papa," Mary said. "Matthew—"

"He's rather banged up," Robert said, rubbing Mary's arm. Cora came out behind him, her eyes full of worry. "We'll call you in a little while."  
"I want to see my husband," Mary said in a low voice. Robert glanced at Isobel, and they moved aside. Mary pressed her baby closer to her as she entered the room. Dr. Clarkson looked up, startled, and made to protest her coming closer, but she barely heard or saw him.

"Matthew? Oh, Matthew," Mary whispered, kneeling down at his bed and finding his hand. She pressed her lips to it, her eyes filling with tears. "Matthew, please… Dr. Clarkson? How bad is it?" She raised her eyes to look at the doctor.

"I am just finishing the stitches. He's lost blood, but we should know within a few hours. Hopefully he regains consciousness."

Mary didn't need to ask what would happen if he didn't. Her blood ran cold. She swallowed hard, pressing a kiss to the side of baby's head as she tried to put those thoughts out of her mind. She stood, drawing herself up to her full height. "I want him moved to my room. Bring in a bed, please."

"Mary," her mother said from the doorway.

"No," Mary interrupted. "I want him in my room. I have seen him in a hospital before, you know. You don't need to protect me." She looked at Dr. Clarkson. "When you are finished with him, bring him in." She turned and left, pushing past the others without making eye contact. When she got back to her bedroom, she closed the door and leaned her forehead against it, letting out a long, shuddering breath. A few tears fell on the baby's head, and she wiped them off tenderly as she returned to bed.

"It's all right," she whispered, settling him back on her lap. "Don't worry, little one. Papa will be all right, and everything will be rosy in our garden." She bounced him up and down and whispered to him through her tears, distracting herself from thoughts of her bloody, unconscious husband as much as she could. It seemed like an eternity before the door opened, and Tom and Robert carried a bed through. Matthew came on a stretcher, and they carefully moved him onto the bed. His head lolled to the side, his face tipped towards Mary.

"Thank you, Dr. Clarkson," Mary said. "How is he?"

The doctor reached for Matthew's wrist. "His pulse does seem to be getting stronger, which is a good sign. All we can do is wait."

"He's right, my dear," Isobel said when Mary turned fearful eyes to her. "We have to wait." She sank down on the edge of her son's bed and clasped his hand. Everyone was crowded into the room, and they all watched Matthew.

"There's nothing we can do for him, so we might as well go back to Downton to wait," Cora finally said. "If you don't mind, Mary."

She shook her head. "No. We'll call you if—"

"If there's news," Isobel finished for her. She smiled, though it was clearly an effort, and opened the door for the family. Dr. Clarkson followed.

"Do you mind if I stay?" Isobel hovered by the door.

"No," Mary said, so quickly that she almost cut Isobel off. She raised her gaze from the baby to meet her mother-in-law's eyes. "I don't mind at all."

Isobel smiled. She sat back down with Matthew, taking his hand in hers again. So they sat, mother and son and mother and son, waiting, as the day began to stretch into twilight.

She had very nearly dozed off when it happened. Well, she had simply closed her eyes a little; after the nurse had come to take the baby, Mary had realized how very tired she was. She couldn't sleep, she knew, not with Matthew like this, but she had figured that closing her eyes would be all right. And then she heard it, one whisper that startled her out of her half-sleep.

"Mary?"

Her eyes flew open and she sat up like a shot. One glance at Isobel confirmed that he had indeed spoken.

"Matthew. I'm here." Mary was at his bedside in an instant, kneeling on the floor as Isobel still sat on the edge of the bed. "Matthew, darling, wake up." She rubbed his hand with both of hers, willing him to speak again.

His eyelids fluttered open. "Mary," he murmured, and a hint of smile lifted his lips when he saw her. His eyes closed, then opened again. "Oh, Mary. My love."

Mary exhaled in a fearful smile, her eyebrows knotted together. "Oh, Matthew," she wept. She pressed her forehead to his hand, crying openly.

"Mother," Matthew said. "What—what happened?"

"You were in an accident," Isobel said. "A truck. Your head is injured."

"An accident? Yes, I was driving—where's the baby?" Alarm took over Matthew's face as the pieces began to rush back into place.

"He's fine, he's with the nurse," Mary said. "He's sleeping and he's perfectly wonderful. How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts," Matthew said, squinting as he thought about it. "I feel—very tired. But all right. I've felt worse. How are you?"

"I'm fine." Mary shook her head, batting away his concern. "I'm fine. Tired, that's all."

"My darling, I'm so sorry—"

"No. Don't apologize," Mary said firmly. "Just get better. I've had you moved in here, so we can stay here together tonight while we both recover," she told him in a lighter tone, forcing a smile onto her face. "Why don't we call Dr. Clarkson?"

"I'll go." Isobel stood, but she lingered for a moment, her eyes meeting Matthew's. She kissed his forehead before she left.

"Oh, Mary," Matthew murmured, feebly lifting his fingers to brush her cheek.

"Do you really feel all right?"

He tried to nod and winced. "All right. Not great," he said with a half-smile.

"Oh, God, Matthew," she breathed. "I love you so much. So, so much." She began to cry again and bent forward, pressing her head to his chest, drinking in the feel of him near her. "You're my world."

"And you're mine. Come, darling. It's going to be all right."

Mary raised her head and nodded. "I know," she whispered. "I was just so scared."

Matthew's eyes looked deep into hers. "My darling." He took her hand and she clasped it hard, gazing into his battered face.

She did not let go of his hand during Dr. Clarkson's examination, nor as Isobel spoon-fed some broth to him. Someone brought her a chair and she sat, her own aches and pains completely forgotten as she watched her husband. He had a concussion in addition to the wound, Clarkson said. He brought Matthew some pills that Mary helped him take. When it was all over, someone brought in the baby, and Mary sat, holding him and talking nonsense to them both as Matthew gazed upon them.

She didn't stop talking all night, distracting Matthew from his pains and keeping him awake. Long after the baby had been returned to the nurse, Mary chattered away, making plans for their family and their future. When Matthew finally convinced her she should sleep, she curled up around his legs, her head on his torso, and only then, when she could hear the beating of his heart and feel the movement of his breath under her cheek, did she close her eyes.

_So there. That's what happened, the end, Julian Fellowes who? I'll probably update soon because, let's be real, I need to get as far away from the CS ending as I can. I would LOVE to know your thoughts and here is a huge hug for everyone. xxx_


	2. Chapter 2

It was several days later when they finally removed to Downton with a healthy baby and a healed head (and a rather tired new mother). Though they'd both been advised to rest, the afternoon was a bustle of activity as Mary and Matthew situated their son, who had officially been named Reginald, in the nursery and settled back in themselves. The relief of Matthew's recovery still coursed through them, accompanied and strengthened by the sheer joy of Reggie's birth.

As Mary replaced the bandage on Matthew's head that night, they were both quiet, reflecting on the events of the last week. They had spent the better part of the day bickering over who should be caring for whom, with Matthew insisting that he was perfectly well and that it was Mary who needed to rest while Mary, of course, maintained that he was in worse condition. In the end, Mary had won, but only because she had agreed to stay in bed the entire next day (not that she had any intention of actually doing so).

Mary chuckled darkly as she looked down at Matthew's wound. "Leave it to us not to do anything quietly," she said, her voice rueful but full of affection. If it hadn't been so frightening, it would have seemed almost comical that, after everything they'd been through, the birth of their son should be marred by Matthew nearly getting himself killed.

Matthew let out a soundless laugh, gazing at his wife in the mirror as he watched her nimble fingers smooth the gauze around his temple. "I suppose we do seem to have an unfortunate tendency for theatrics," he replied. "I am sorry, my darling."

"Stop apologizing," Mary said impatiently. The bandage done, her hands fell to his shoulders and she squeezed them meaningfully. "For the last time, it wasn't your fault. I'm only glad you're here."

Matthew stood and turned to face her, taking her hands in his. "So am I," he said very seriously. "Oh, Mary, so am I."

She nodded; the horrific possibility of what could have been loomed between them. They didn't need to say anything to understand each other. Mary pressed her forehead to Matthew's, closing her eyes against tears. Matthew softly rubbed his nose against her cheek, his arms winding around her waist. They stood, listening to each other's breath and drinking in their togetherness. They were here. They were together. They were safe.

It was a very long time before Mary pulled back. "How many times we have come this close to losing each other?" she whispered, her eyes roaming over Matthew's face.

Matthew smoothed her hair with a gentle palm. "Don't think about that now. We have each other, and we have another beautiful Crawley," he said, a smile spreading across his face. He bent a little to catch Mary's eyes fully, looking at her intently. "The most perfect family I ever saw. And we will spend the rest of our lives with our family, and with each other. I promise."

Mary nodded, and then she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body close. "I know, darling," she murmured. She pressed a tender kiss behind his ear, to his jaw, on his lips. "Now you must get some rest. Dr. Clarkson said you must take it easy even though you're feeling better."

"He said the same thing about you," Matthew replied, raising an eyebrow as he shed his robe and climbed in bed.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Don't start this again. I am perfectly fine. It's you who gave us such a scare."

"And it's you who gave us such a beautiful son." Matthew's voice was soft and full of feeling; his gaze was tender as Mary met his wonderful blue eyes. He reached up a hand and Mary took it as she switched off the lamp and snuggled down next to him. It felt so good to finally be back in their bed with his arms around her.

Mary smiled against his chest, almost feeling tears pricking at her eyes as she replied. "It was you too, my darling. You too."

* * *

The next morning, Matthew announced that he was feeling even better, and Mary, though perfectly well, really did end up staying in bed. Matthew brought in Reggie and the three of them cuddled together for the better part of the day. They tickled and talked to their little boy, and Matthew read aloud for a while. Mary gazed at their son in her arms as she listened to the soothing cadence of Matthew's voice.

They were both silent for a moment when Matthew closed the book, not wanting to break the peaceful spell that had fallen around them. They watched Reggie breathing, blinking, stretching his little hands up to curl around his parents' fingers.

"He's ours," Mary breathed. She tore her eyes away from the baby to look at Matthew. It seemed so incredible. Matthew gave her a slow, long kiss, his hand covering hers where it lay on Reggie's back.

"He certainly is," Matthew said. "I'm so proud of you, you know." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I only wish I could have been there."

"You will be next time," Mary said softly, and she had to smile at the delighted look on his face.

* * *

Violet and Isobel came to dinner that night, making for a full party. Mary reached out to squeeze Matthew's hand when they all filed through to the dining room. This was their family. For all they'd been through, Mary felt happy (and uncommonly sentimental) as she looked at them all around the table. She was so happy that this was where Reggie would grow up, so happy that this was their home and they were back in it.

"Matthew, dear, how are you feeling?" Isobel asked when they had been served the first course.

"Perfectly well, Mother," he replied. "I feel almost like normal."

"But I'm never letting him drive a car again," Mary added.

"And Reggie?"

Mary and Matthew shared a joyful glance. "He's wonderful," Mary said. "He seems to be quite strong and rather cheerful," she laughed. "He doesn't cry much. Not yet, anyway."

"Well, we'll see him after dinner," Violet said. "Are we still going for a picnic on Saturday, Cora?"

"Oh no, I'll be in London," Edith said.

"To see Mr. Gregson?" Mary asked in a tone that was too casual, and that was belied by the challenging look she shot across the table.

Edith cocked her head. "Yes. He _is_ my editor."

Mary rolled her eyes, and Cora hastily cleared her throat. "Well, we'll miss you on the picnic, Edith, if you really have to go. It will be Reggie's first real excursion."

"Why not invite Mr. Gregson to the picnic?" Tom asked casually. His eyes widened when he glanced up and realized everyone was looking daggers at him, except Edith, who was smiling broadly. He shrugged, glancing at Matthew, who was giving him an I'll-tell-you-later look. Given all the commotion, the two of them hadn't had a chance to catch up since the trip.

"What a wonderful idea, Tom! May I, Mama?"

"Now, Edith, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Cora began. "We've only just seen him at Duneagle. We don't need to have him make the journey here just to go on a picnic with us!"

"Why not?" Isobel put in with a shrug. "If he wants to!"

"Mother," Matthew said warningly. "It is not our place—"

"Not your place?" Edith interrupted. "But you took it upon yourself quite easily to give Michael advice when we were in Scotland, Matthew."

Everyone grew silent, except for Violet, who muttered, "He's Michael now? Really!" Matthew was usually an advocate for Edith. To hear her talk in that tone to Mary was expected; directed at Matthew it was a surprise.

"We just want what's best for you, Edith," Matthew said in a quelling voice. "But let's not discuss it now."

"How are you to know what's best for me? How are any of you to know?"

"Edith, please." Cora shot her daughter an all-too-familiar look, and Edith pressed her lips together, dropping her eyes to her plate.

"We ought to invite Dr. Clarkson to the picnic, too," Isobel said, grinning around at everyone in an attempt to change the topic. "He's saved Matthew's life again, after all."

"I wouldn't say he exactly saved it the first time," Mary put in. "But yes, let's."

Matthew laughed a little. "Why not? I am eternally indebted to the man, it is true."

"I think that's a lovely idea," Cora said. "I'm sure he'd like to see Reggie, too."

"Then it's settled," Robert said. Talk turned to other subjects, and the rest of the dinner passed amicably. Mary found herself impatient to return to Reggie; her mind could hardly stay on the topic of conversation. She met Matthew's eyes over dessert and could tell he was feeling the same. Mary smiled to herself. How much one's life could change in the space of a few hours! Their world had shifted on its axis.

When they went through, Mary led Violet and Isobel upstairs to see the baby.

"Hello, sweet one," she said, lifting him out of the crib. Reggie gurgled in response. She handed him to Violet, who cradled him against her breast with a gentleness that almost surprised Mary.

"What a lovely creature," Isobel murmured, looking over Violet's shoulder.

"You are very lucky, my dear," Violet said. "What a tiny little thing!" Suddenly Reggie began to cry, and the dowager held him out to Isobel. "Oh, dear," she said. "I never did like it when they got fussy. What does he have to fuss about?" Isobel took the baby and Violet put a hand on Mary's shoulder.

"Well done, my dear."

Mary smiled. "Thank you, Granny."

"When Robert was born, goodness knows he wasn't as handsome as that. Reggie will be a very fine little thing." Violet gazed at her great-grandson for a moment. "Well, I think I will be going. I'll see you Saturday." She kissed Mary on the cheek, patted Reggie, bid Isobel good night and left.

Mary moved to stand next to Isobel, who still cradled Reggie in her arms. They were silent for a few moments.

"You know, Mary," Isobel said, her eyes on Reggie, "I don't know if I've told you this before, but… You're a wonderful woman." She looked up. "Matthew is very lucky to have you. And so is Reggie."

Mary swallowed, watching Isobel, whose gaze was turned again to the baby. "Thank you," she said sincerely. She and Isobel had never talked personalities, not even when she and Matthew had gotten married. Neither of them was given to sentimentality, and Mary had always thought privately that they were each a little wary of each other. They had developed a certain closeness, but it had largely been for Matthew's sake. Lately, however, Mary had found herself starting to value her mother-in-law more and more highly, and this unprecedented praise touched her.

Isobel leaned down to replace Reggie in his crib. She smiled at Mary. "I mean it. You're very strong. You're going to be a lovely mother."

Mary didn't know what to say. She looked at Isobel for a moment, and how close they'd come to losing Matthew washed over her again. Suddenly something came over Mary, and she stepped forward and hugged her mother-in-law. Isobel was surprised, but she returned the embrace warmly.

"Thank you, Isobel," Mary said. Their eyes met and somehow a new understanding passed between them. Perhaps it was something that had been born when they'd been so united as Mary had given birth, or perhaps it was something else, something Reggie brought to them.

The two women turned back to the crib to watch the sleepy little prince. When the door opened, neither of them glanced up. Matthew approached behind them and quietly gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

"How is he?"

"Perfect," Mary smiled, reaching behind her to entwine her fingers with Matthew's. He gave her hand a tight squeeze.

Matthew felt like bursting as he stood there with his wife and his mother, looking down at his son. He looked at Mary and Isobel standing there together, and then back at Reggie, and wondered what he had done to deserve this happiness. It threatened to overwhelm him, how happy he was. He glanced at Mary. Her lips curved in a soft smile as she watched Reginald. His perfect, beautiful wife. _His _Mary Crawley. How had he been so lucky?

When Isobel left a few minutes later, neither Matthew nor Mary moved to return to the party downstairs.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Matthew said, moving next to his wife and slipping an arm around her waist.

Mary shook her head. "Of course not. Your mother and I were having a very nice chat, actually."

"Were you?"

She leaned her head against Matthew's chest, turning into his embrace. "She said some very nice things. She was a great help, you know, during the birth. She was the only person I had, aside from Dr. Clarkson."

"I'm so glad." Matthew kissed the side of her head. "It makes me happy to see you as true friends."

"We are," Mary said thoughtfully, idly stroking Matthew's chest with her fingertips. Her voice was soft and sleepy. "It makes me happy, too."

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, Mary woke up to find the space next to her empty. She smoothed her hand over the sheets where Matthew normally lay and pushed herself out of bed. Pulling her robe on, she padded down the hallway to the nursery.

He was exactly where she had thought he would be, standing at the crib, looking down at Reggie. Mary silently came up next to him, and he turned to her with a smile. She leaned against his back and they both watched their sleeping child.

"I just wanted to see him," Matthew whispered after a few moments, his eyes never leaving his son. "He's so…" He broke off, tears filling his eyes.

"I know," Mary whispered. She let her chin rest on Matthew's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his front. In his sleep, Reggie shifted, stretching his arms up toward them briefly. Mary laughed softly, feeling a few tears of her own leak out onto Matthew's neck. Matthew covered her hands with his, and they stood there in the dark nursery for a very long time, just watching him, feeling their love expand with every breath.

_A/N: Thanks for reading! I think I'm going to continue and start working in the lives of the other characters as well, still with a focus on M/M, unless everyone just wants 100% M/M fluff. I haven't really decided yet, but I do have some ideas for Edith, Tom, Anna and Isobel... Anyway, thank you all so much for the lovely response I've had in the reviews! Hope you enjoyed chapter 2!_


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